Dutch
07-19-2005, 07:52 PM
While stationed in Turkey, we had very limited supply of softball players. Since we were in Ankara, away from the big bases in Adana and Izmir, we would get together with the Embassy Marines and the Army guys and even a Turkish team from Istanbul to play every Saturday.
By way of sheer dumb luck, I ended up being the pitcher because I was the only person on our team that could throw a strike (and pitching is usually relegated to the older guys anyway). I pitched for two seasons (albeit against the same 3 teams) but I thought I was getting pretty good.
By chance we hooked up for a "friendly" match with the guys from the Izmir base and they invited me along to pitch for them in a "small units" tourney in Germany. So I went from being a nobody softball player to a pitcher for Team Izmir in a tournament!
Softball is a fun sport, especially when you are pretty involved in the team. But when I arrived in Louisiana, I was in for a rude awakening. My squadron had a pitcher (a pretty good one at that) and I was relegated to being a team nobody again.
Last season I played a couple games at DH (extra hitter) and then a game at 1B and one game at catcher. That kind of sucked after the excitement of pitching, but I dealt with it. And so I stopped showing up. Basically, I quit. But I was in the middle of buying a house and moving, so it was no big deal, I didn't really have the time anyway.
This season, I'm ready to get back to it, but no pitching--the coach puts me in RF where I hadn't played hardly ever in my life (outfield playing that is) so I was pretty nervous about my ability to gauge where the ball was and then actually catch it if I had managed to position myself to the right location.
The first ball hit to RF is a high pop-up. I take a couple steps over, position myself right under neath it and the ball hits the palm of my glove and pops right out on the ground. Then nothing else gets hit to me the rest of the game.
Then, the next game, they put me back in RF (after a couple days of giving me shit of course!) and somebody hits a line drive to me. I run as fast as I can (I'm 33 years old now and no speedster to begin with) and lurch forward and snag the ball about 6-inches from the ground. Hey! A catch, finally.
I make a couple more catches and then I'm rolling. They move me over to RCF where I get a bit more action. I don't drop another ball all season and make quite a few good catches. I'm really enjoying just being part of the team again and thankful that I'm playing my new position pretty well.
My batting has always been pretty average, I've learned over the years to hit the ball opposite field and have no managed to consistantly hit the ball over the pitcher's head or over the 2nd baseman's head. I've even managed a few true doubles this season. The lone highlight was a 2 run hit in the top of the 9th with 2 outs to basically win a game for us.
Anyway, Monday's game is a makeup game (the season had ended). If we win, we are in the playoffs. If we lose, we are out. Pretty cut and dry.
So we get to the field and the coach says, "Mike, I need you to pitch." I say, "Where's Boudreaux?" (Our primary pitcher) Turns out he's on vacation with his family.
I'm thrilled, but I haven't pitched in two years, so I'm a little nervous. The team I am on is pretty hard-core. If you screw up they generally get into your shit and yell and hoop and holler at you.
So I go in as the pitcher and put the first three batters down in order! One strikeout and a ground out and a pop-out. I'm really excited that I still have good accuracy on my pitches. I'm pushing the pitches pretty high and dropping them deep, so I am pretty sure only the really good hitters are going to kill those.
The 2nd inning starts off okay, the first batter flies out. The 2nd batter hits a single to be the first runner on. The 3rd batter comes up (#6 batter) and smashes a line drive right back at the pitchers mound. It hits my plant foot square on the front and top of my big toe that shoots pain all the way up to the top of my brain. Oh my God, my big toe just exploded, I thought!
I'm standing there, limping around the mound in agony and I can hear my bench-teammates yelling at me, "C'mon, ya wimp. Stop being a pansy!" The usualy barrage from these guys. (They are good guys really--I think.)
So now it's a done deal, I am not going to stop pitching. I make a few good plays on the mound, but I can't run to backup homeplate (which draws the ire of our bench guys...they tell me I need to hustle!) In any event, I pitch pretty damn close to perfect the rest of the day, and hobble around to keep my foot limber while not pitching.
I take off my shoe after the game and my sock is red. Something ain't right, but I go no further, I put my shoe back on and head for home. Once there, I go into the bathroom, pull of the sock (which is now dripping with blood) and I see my toe. The big toe-nail is cracked in half roughly half way up from the front and the entire thing is blue. Blood is seeping out through the length of the crack and around the edges of my nail. I'm going to lose the nail in a few days the doctor tells me but everything should be okay after a month or so.
Damn, that hurt like hell. The next morning (this morning) the doctor is poking and prodding it and it's starts bleeding again...he says, "Does that hurt?" I say, "Better you than a North Korean interrogater, I suppose."
Then he puts me on a profile which says I can't do anything for 30 days. Thank goodness I passed my PT test on Friday!
My return to pitching softball lasted exactly one game. Now I'm done with no playoffs. But my ERA is 2.00!
I'm a comm-computer guy, I hate blood and that was way too much of it. Anyway, I guess the purpose of this story was to gross you out with the busted toe imagery.
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed living it.
By way of sheer dumb luck, I ended up being the pitcher because I was the only person on our team that could throw a strike (and pitching is usually relegated to the older guys anyway). I pitched for two seasons (albeit against the same 3 teams) but I thought I was getting pretty good.
By chance we hooked up for a "friendly" match with the guys from the Izmir base and they invited me along to pitch for them in a "small units" tourney in Germany. So I went from being a nobody softball player to a pitcher for Team Izmir in a tournament!
Softball is a fun sport, especially when you are pretty involved in the team. But when I arrived in Louisiana, I was in for a rude awakening. My squadron had a pitcher (a pretty good one at that) and I was relegated to being a team nobody again.
Last season I played a couple games at DH (extra hitter) and then a game at 1B and one game at catcher. That kind of sucked after the excitement of pitching, but I dealt with it. And so I stopped showing up. Basically, I quit. But I was in the middle of buying a house and moving, so it was no big deal, I didn't really have the time anyway.
This season, I'm ready to get back to it, but no pitching--the coach puts me in RF where I hadn't played hardly ever in my life (outfield playing that is) so I was pretty nervous about my ability to gauge where the ball was and then actually catch it if I had managed to position myself to the right location.
The first ball hit to RF is a high pop-up. I take a couple steps over, position myself right under neath it and the ball hits the palm of my glove and pops right out on the ground. Then nothing else gets hit to me the rest of the game.
Then, the next game, they put me back in RF (after a couple days of giving me shit of course!) and somebody hits a line drive to me. I run as fast as I can (I'm 33 years old now and no speedster to begin with) and lurch forward and snag the ball about 6-inches from the ground. Hey! A catch, finally.
I make a couple more catches and then I'm rolling. They move me over to RCF where I get a bit more action. I don't drop another ball all season and make quite a few good catches. I'm really enjoying just being part of the team again and thankful that I'm playing my new position pretty well.
My batting has always been pretty average, I've learned over the years to hit the ball opposite field and have no managed to consistantly hit the ball over the pitcher's head or over the 2nd baseman's head. I've even managed a few true doubles this season. The lone highlight was a 2 run hit in the top of the 9th with 2 outs to basically win a game for us.
Anyway, Monday's game is a makeup game (the season had ended). If we win, we are in the playoffs. If we lose, we are out. Pretty cut and dry.
So we get to the field and the coach says, "Mike, I need you to pitch." I say, "Where's Boudreaux?" (Our primary pitcher) Turns out he's on vacation with his family.
I'm thrilled, but I haven't pitched in two years, so I'm a little nervous. The team I am on is pretty hard-core. If you screw up they generally get into your shit and yell and hoop and holler at you.
So I go in as the pitcher and put the first three batters down in order! One strikeout and a ground out and a pop-out. I'm really excited that I still have good accuracy on my pitches. I'm pushing the pitches pretty high and dropping them deep, so I am pretty sure only the really good hitters are going to kill those.
The 2nd inning starts off okay, the first batter flies out. The 2nd batter hits a single to be the first runner on. The 3rd batter comes up (#6 batter) and smashes a line drive right back at the pitchers mound. It hits my plant foot square on the front and top of my big toe that shoots pain all the way up to the top of my brain. Oh my God, my big toe just exploded, I thought!
I'm standing there, limping around the mound in agony and I can hear my bench-teammates yelling at me, "C'mon, ya wimp. Stop being a pansy!" The usualy barrage from these guys. (They are good guys really--I think.)
So now it's a done deal, I am not going to stop pitching. I make a few good plays on the mound, but I can't run to backup homeplate (which draws the ire of our bench guys...they tell me I need to hustle!) In any event, I pitch pretty damn close to perfect the rest of the day, and hobble around to keep my foot limber while not pitching.
I take off my shoe after the game and my sock is red. Something ain't right, but I go no further, I put my shoe back on and head for home. Once there, I go into the bathroom, pull of the sock (which is now dripping with blood) and I see my toe. The big toe-nail is cracked in half roughly half way up from the front and the entire thing is blue. Blood is seeping out through the length of the crack and around the edges of my nail. I'm going to lose the nail in a few days the doctor tells me but everything should be okay after a month or so.
Damn, that hurt like hell. The next morning (this morning) the doctor is poking and prodding it and it's starts bleeding again...he says, "Does that hurt?" I say, "Better you than a North Korean interrogater, I suppose."
Then he puts me on a profile which says I can't do anything for 30 days. Thank goodness I passed my PT test on Friday!
My return to pitching softball lasted exactly one game. Now I'm done with no playoffs. But my ERA is 2.00!
I'm a comm-computer guy, I hate blood and that was way too much of it. Anyway, I guess the purpose of this story was to gross you out with the busted toe imagery.
I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed living it.